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#but now i have a clear head and i can do actual good art of it
taylor-titmouse · 2 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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pissfizz · 11 months
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#it’s just so fucking frustrating. i have 681 followers on Instagram. over 80% of those are inactive accounts. the rest I would say is -#-roughly 15% friends and family. and the other 5% is people who actually followed me cuz they liked my art#and I get about 20-30 likes a post. almost all of that is friends and family yet again. with a few stragglers that aren’t. and then of -#-course there’s bots in there too#and the reason I don’t clear out these accounts is cuz I know that once I do I’ll see how many people are left that actually do care. and -#-it’ll make me feel even more like shit than I do now when I see that#but oh ho ho this little 14 year old with toxic twitter brains is out here with a 5k plus following and their future basically guaranteed -#-in the art field#and a huge percentage of the time they’re like. fine! they’re not even good just FINE. like I am OBJECTIVELY better than them in many cases-#-and yet!!#but that’s not mentioning when these literal middle schoolers are actually amazing talented gifted artists#like I don’t understand. when I was your age my art was ass. it still is compared to how you’re drawing#i draw literally all the fucking time I’m constantly practicing and trying to test my limits but it never makes me any better#do I not fucking practice enough. am I supposed to draw until I get a goddamn carpal tunnel so I can even compare to this asshole kid on -#-twitter or instagram?? i dont fucking understand and I’m so over it#every time this happens I want to slam my head into a wall until I get brain damage and fall into a coma and never wake up#i want to fucking smash my head with a rock and my brains splattering the pavement will be my final awful art piece for this world to see#this is the only thing I have and yet I can never get the validation I crave and need and I’m not even good at it anyway so I probably dont-#-even deserve it in the first place#I’m so over this shit#vent
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tsukasageorge · 1 year
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Guy who will make a 1k word post about how she is not drawing (he is making a 1k word post about not drawing instead of drawing)
#raey spam#someone needs to yell at me to draw every single day#except thats not going to work because im just not going to#the person who has to yell at me to draw has to be me and i have to listen to myself bc its not fun just sitting here#being like hey i wanna draw can i draw. hey i wanna draw i should draw. i should be drawing rn. what if i was drawing rn#head in my fucking hands (if i want to draw i have to actually draw)#opened my drawing app and drew a head. yay! now i just have to not fall into The Trap#(The Trap is when i draw something bad and instead of being like hey it is ok to draw bad i will come back to this tomorrow#i keep working on it and not having fun bc its not working and im drawing bad#and then i leave it alone bc its not working but now i remember that i didnt have fun working on it bc i was drawing bad#so now i dont want to work on it at all#so i put it aside for another month#and then i also dont draw at all for the rest of that month bc the last time i drew i was drawing bad art and not having a good time.)#i love preaching about how drawing bad art is okay and if you're not having fun you should just stop and resume another day#and then immediately opening csp to draw bad and not have fun but keep drawing until i spiral and feel like shit for like 3 days after#there's this one specific art piece that i was not having a good time doing but i kept working on it until i literally felt sick#(and then i kept working on it)#it's not a major piece it was like a random headshot but the lack of passion was so clear in the final product#it made the entire process miserable bc i hated the finished thing#like its one thing to start of a piece bad and then have it turn out good but if you're only drawing so you can get it over with#the end product is going to look bad. and it is so so good to have bad art but not at the cost of your sanity#i mean i doubt every single artist in the world does this but. yeah#oh also if ur curious of the drawing i hated doing it's like the only violet evergarden art ive ever done#so yeah. working on this. also working on fucking DRAWING MORE THAN 3 TIMES A MONTH
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sanspuppet · 5 months
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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 (hyung line)
W/T: explicit content (18+)
- short scenario for each member
- not proofread so sorry any mistakes
A/O: here's some hard thoughts of my fav men, maknae line will be uploaded soon! sorry if the hwa one isn't as long as the others, dragged away a little too much by the yeosang one 🤭
read here the maknae line
✩ 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠
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He's never tried to make you uncomfortable by mentioning sexual stuff, he wanted you to do the first move so he'd be sure you want it. Can't deny that it was pretty difficult to hold your horses when your boyfriend is a fucking hot guy, his smirk always has a specific effect on you, you also touched yourself a couple times thinking of him, when he was at work. You were quite shy to propose it, but this morning, seeing his boner standing under the blanket got you over the edge, you surely want him and you gotta take what you crave for. You sit on his lap with him still asleep, how can he be so damn gorgeous without even trying? he's fucking sleeping and he still seems a work of art. You start to dry hump yourself against his crotch, your lower lip between your teeth trying to hold back your whimpers. He slightly opens his eyes at the sudden friction, he stretched his arms yawning lazily: "Y/n..." once he realizes what you were actually doing his eyes open wide, his heartbeat accelerating at the sight of you grinding over his hips. "Joong... wanna take you right now, pretty please" you lean over him to leave a small kiss on his lips, your hands caressing his neck. You smile when he giggles, his hands dragging down your body, while kissing you back. "Happy to have you getting rid of my erection, love"
✩ 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚
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Your relationship with Seonghwa was intimate, private times with him never missed, and he also had seen you barely naked a few times, but still you had nothing more than cuddles sessions. You arrive at home at late night, after a date with your boyfriend. You're about to head towards the bathroom to took your makeup off and brush your teeth, when he comes from behind holding your hips still. He approaches your ear, his sweet low voice whispering: "We're not done yet, sweetie" you turn yourself and face him with a smirk: "Oh, what did we miss?" he gets closer to you, noses a couple of inches far. "gotta ruin your lipstick first" you take his hand and drag it down your body, going slower when on your chest and stopping when they are between you thighs, his hand is shaking, you can feel his heartbeat accelerating while squeezing his wrist: "What about ruining something else?" he murmurs a small "fuck" before kissing you on your collarbone, biting your skin slightly. "Can’t wait to be inside you, baby"
✩ 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨
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He could seem a tall cute baby boy, but in reality he perfectly knows he's a fucking horny man. who goes crazy everytime you wear short skirts and accidentally reveal him the under cheeks of your ass, he immediately develops the need of pin you at the wall and finally feel how good your pussy can take him, despite you looked too innocent to be able to do it. (You looked). You walk towards the living room, wearing only your underwear and one of his sweaters. you lay on the couch on your stomach and start watching tv, after some minutes, you hear your boyfriend walking in and suddenly stop. You shake your head, chuckling: "Stop staring at my ass, man" You hear him gasping from behind, he clears his throat coughing: "uhm... i wasn't..." you turn yourself, laying on your back, staring at him while a smirk took its was into your face: "why don't you just take your girlfriend and mark her?" he doesn't say anything, his body's blocked. "i noticed how you keep staring at me with those pretty eyes" you keep saying. he quickly reaches you, his body on top of yours, his hands wrapping around your waist: "i want you so fucking bad baby" you shake your index finger to him: "you should ask for it first" you tease him. "please let me fuck your pretty ass"
✩ 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠
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Yeosang has never showed you that side of him, which it quite surprised you, being a grown man just like others. You even thought that he wasn't physically attracted by you, what a silly, he is just a shy guy and he isn't certainly as innocent as you thought. You're walking through the hallway of your apartment, but suddenly stop when you hear weird noises coming through the bathroom. You bring your ear closer to the door, what you can hear now is something that seem apparently a squelching sound. Your breath stops as you figure out what is happening in there, you're about to ask at Yeosang if he's okay, but you can clearly hear is voice now booming inside the room: "Fuck- o-oh God, mmpphh fuck! wanna feel that tight pussy..." you wide your eyes, your mouth hangs open from hearing how hot his moans sound. "Ah... y/n.. f-fuck oh fuck! So close! Working this dick so well... shit!" you can tell that he's speeding up his pace by hearing clearly every single nasty sound he makes while stroking his cock. You can't contain yourself anymore: you shut the door open, finding your boyfriend sitting on the toilet while jerking off. He gasps, his heavy breath making his chest widen intensely, he looks at you with a mist of shame, fear and neediness to finish what he started. "What the fuck Yeo? I'm right here, why didn't you fuck me instead??" without even waiting for him to say anything you undress yourself and sit on his lap, taking his length at once inside you. He moans loudly your name, barely looking at you because already too fucked out. "Gonna let you know how good my pussy feel"
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 26 days
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Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)
BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?
Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.
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luaveltarot · 2 months
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What is my future self like?
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🍹 ⛰️ 🕯️
🍹
Your future self is worth billions bucks if I’ll be honest. Not necessarily in monetary terms but your status and wisdom is definitely worth billions bucks. The purpose you think for yourself rn is not the actual purpose you are supposed to be on. You could even feel like a traitor in your own body, not listening to what your soul really wants to do or you just don’t feel confident enough maybe. Your future self has a message that nobody will help or guide you. It’s you who will find a way. You can find messengers in form of strangers or acquaintances but nothing else. You are just by yourself. So when you’ll finally accept that you are enough, recognise the strength which lies within you is when you’ll actually walk on the path to your future self. Your future self is in a field where it’s well respected and settled, you will have fame, mostly people would have seen you on their social feeds. Many people might come to you for help but you’ll have healthy boundaries, however you will be really helpful and a softy but not enough to be taken advantage of. Also you might be so famous that you would have to wear caps or glasses just to hide your identity and you’ll will have one assistant too.
Your future self has a really pretty house with a garden. Idk if you are plant person or not rn but in future you’ll feel inclined to set up your own kitchen garden and some flowers. If you could see your future self rn, you wouldn’t accept that it could be you because you’ll future self is completely transformed, however I see you being very busy, no time at all, it’s like running errands the rest of your life but you seem happy and whatever hold you back rn like the traumas and limiting beliefs, you are definitely over it and you have healed.
The guidance from your future serious is that life is not a loop, it’s only a loop until you feel like a rat on a wheel. Right now you could feel like a baby who is too smol for the big big world. Take time to clear your head, clean your aura by meditation and releasing energy. I feel like if you get closer to God, the angels will bring answers for you to lead you to the path meant for you.
⛰️
Your future self is someone who doesn’t believe in stereotypes and is unconventional in approach towards life. Rn you might be in the mindset that what I want is too small and holds little value in the eyes of society. However, your future self feels confident in what it’s doing, you could lead a life where you glow for a while and then diminish from that place or people’s life. Like you bring light into people’s life using your arts, please note art is not art but art is what your souls naturally produces and it feels like art. You could be an influencer, freelancer, doctor, event organiser, musician, dancer and architecture. Your future self is linger longer which enjoys life like an extrovert. Your future self is too bright and it provides warmth in people’s life. For example- if you are an event organiser, then you organise parties in a way which glows the heard like the warmth of sun after rain. Or if you are a doctor who performs surgery then you give them a new life and then move on to something new. You bring change in people’s life that cannot be seen but only felt and it’s like people will be grateful that people like you exist and walk on the planet earth.
You are the healers, humanitarians, social activists kind of pile. You are that hand in the dark when people feel they have drowned and yet in their last breath, a saviour saves them. You might be working in the background for people but you have a profound impact on people’s life and maybe they cannot thank you enough on face but their souls wishes for people like you and you are that one good thing in the world which can restore someone’s faith in society, justice, humanity and God even for that matter. Your lifestyle will be like a minimalist, you’ll not stuff your home with things you don’t need, but it will have only the useful stuff and things you need to live. You are anyway not an extravagant person and you believe in sustainable life.
That advice for you is that you need no advice haha but staying so much indoors will be worth it one day. You might feel bored with your life, you might feel you haven’t enjoyed enough life but all this long hours of study or putting efforts into that one art will completely transform your life. Just focus on that one art and your future self will love you for that. Don’t feel ashamed, embarrassed or low, it’s really all about the perspective, we all have different talents that why this world is still working, just imagine if everybody were same and live robotically, we were given mind to feel the emotions of our body not just analyse and do math for the world.
🕯️
Your future self is highly spiritual and connected to the divine and to itself. You at present could be someone who has been a subject to bullying, you’ll been betrayed and left heartbroken. You are like the coin on the street which no one looks at but if they pick it up, you’ll end up changing their whole existence with your presence, your planetary positions could be such that it benefits others even if they don’t benefit you. But just know it’s better to not be chosen by jerks walking on the street, in fact you deserve someone who will never let you fall on the street for anyone else has the chance to experience your magic.
You are literally so powerful spiritually that you could be a magician. Life must have been hard and cruel, you could have face rejection because people were not willing to put up for someone like you because they thought it was too much work and they were not open minded enough basically cowards. Don’t give them the power to define your worth. You might feel weak rn and find solace in self improvement articles and hold scriptures. So just stay on this path because your future self has many doors opened for it, many choices for themselves and suddenly people have awakened that what they left on the road thinking was a coin was actually some magical stuff that could have been so powerful for them.
What I really want to say is that your future self is so powerful that it can have anything it wants and there are unlimited choices. Rn you might not have enough choices to begin with but your future self has abundance of light and alchemy to work with. You are one of those rare individuals whom life teaches and chooses to see beyond the veil and you can finally ascend the cycle of birth and rebirth and become one with the divine. Once you reach this state, the rainy days will be over for you. Your future self has everything that you need rn, it has manifested everything for itself but yk that feeling that once you get everything you needed, you realise how shallow those desires are. That’s what will happen with you. But yes if it brings you relief, then whatever you wanted is already yours in the future.
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fuxuannie · 11 months
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↳ pairing : miles morales x reader
↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)
↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)
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MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.
After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.
"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"
Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.
"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"
You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."
The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.
However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.
"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."
Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"
Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"
Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.
Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.
"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.
"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.
At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.
The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.
You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.
"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"
The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.
"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"
The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.
That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.
"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.
You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.
You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.
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minarisplaything · 9 months
Text
Gala Gal ft. Blackpink Rosé
pairing: Rosé x male reader rating: Explicit wordcount: 2.8k prompt: a young journalist gets a chance of a lifetime with Rosé at a recent event.
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Being a writer for a celebrity magazine has its advantages, such as getting to attend grand events like the Cannes Film Festival, or in this case, the MET Gala. Now you might think, where's the fun or excitement in that? A bunch of rich people dressed in overpriced clothing and posing on the red carpet while you have to ask them redundant questions that no one truly cares about outside a small niche of fans.
That is a reasonable question to ask, and a fair point to make. Hell, there are times when you wonder to yourself just how legitimate of a job this is. You certainly hear that question from your parents enough. But the answer to all of those questions comes from the woman currently walking towards you.
"Thank you for your time," you say to the current girl in front of you.
You have been interviewing some girl who is apparently 'the next Olivia Rodrigo,' which is a wild title to have, but you digress. As you bid her good-bye, a sudden chorus of "Rosé! Rosé over here!" erupts from the group of photographers, followed by a series of flashing light bulbs.
Your eyes flick over to the red carpet area near you to see none other than the 26-year-old starlet, Roseanne Park. Otherwise known as Rosé from Blackpink.
You have never crossed paths with her at any events you have covered; which you just toss up to bad luck or god punishing you for some crime you can’t remember. Either way, it seems like you will finally be getting your chance. Judging from this distance, she is just as beautiful as she appears in all her photos.
Her blonde hair is flowing down her back while loose bangs frame her face as she smiles for the camera. She is wearing a black dress that is form-fitting at the top, held together by two thin straps, and flares outwards at the waist. Frankly, she looks stunning. It is a classy dress that still manages to spark arousal in you. Though, you will keep that last part to yourself.
It is only a few moments later that you have to compose yourself as the press woman directs Rosé towards your vicinity. Adjusting your stance, and growing erection, you cough and put on a friendly smile as she walks over.
"Hi, I'm with Eros Magazine," you introduce yourself, managing to remain composed.
"Rosie, it’s nice to meet you," she says sweetly. She is even more beautiful up close, and that smile is practically paralyzing. Given that you don't trust your tongue at the moment, you decide to keep it simple.
"So how are you tonight?" you question, knowing how many times she must have answered it already.
"I'm great! It's a little cold tonight, but I'm excited to be here," she starts in her accented voice. "I love the Museum of Arts and supporting a good cause is always great. There are so many beautiful dresses and people here. So it's all feeling great right now!" she says, remaining smiling and bubbly throughout her answer.
For your part, you merely nod your head and smile, holding the recorder up to get every word. You go through the litany of typical red carpet questions: what projects are you working on, how's the music coming; all the typical things you could hand in to your editor when a story is due. You can see the press woman getting antsy though. Typical. Figuring you only have one or two questions left, you decide to venture out a bit.
"So, you're going to be going on tour again soon, that must be exciting..."
"It is! You're actually the first one to bring that up all night," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice.
"I do like to do my homework beforehand," you joke with a grin before continuing, "That being said, how do you manage to have fun and unwind? Even at these events, you have to keep a certain image, right?"
Rosé is quiet at first, and for a moment, she glances around as if to check that the coast is clear before she answers, "Oh, you know the girls and I find out ways to have fun. And this is actually my third year at the Gala, so I’ve found the little tricks and ways to have some fun."
There is something about the way she looks at you as she speaks that screams there is more than meets the eye to her words. Maybe it is the coy tone to her voice or the glint in her eye as she smiles. Whatever it is, you suddenly find yourself wondering exactly what ‘some fun' entails.
"By the way," Rosé says, interrupting your thoughts, "Eros Magazine...as in the Greek word for erotic love?"
Again she fixes you with that mischievous grin.
"Uh — yeah. Nice catch," you stammer, causing her to giggle.
"I like it" she says, a look you can’t read in her eye. Before you can ask anything further, the press woman begins to nudge her on to the next reporter. "It was nice meeting you."
"You too, have a good one," you reply, watching her intently as she walks away.
If that is your first and last interaction with the K-pop star, then you can say it has been interesting if nothing else. You get the feeling there is more to that little minx than meets the eye, you are only disappointed that you’d likely never get the chance to delve a bit further.
Covering the event means that you gain access to the party but hardly anyone does any real reporting. After all, these kinds of events are meant for the rich and famous.  To cement their status as celebrities, they then sneak off inside to where they can have their fun. For the most part, you reporters stay together, talk, and drink the free liquor that is available.
You expect your night will be spent at the bar, winding your time down until it reaches an acceptable time to call it a night. But first things first, if you are going to be here on the company dime, you might as well get your money's worth.
"I've been looking for you all night!"
You are in the middle of ordering yet another drink when a familiar accented voice reaches your ears. Turning in your stool, you lay your eyes on Roseanne Park for the second time tonight, only this time there is something a little more...loose to her demeanor. You get an explanation when you spot the glass in her hands and briefly wonder how many she had at this point.
"Me? You must be confused," you say, both amused, curious, and a bit confused, "I don't think anyone at this party has said I’m wanted."
"Well, you are!" she says, smiling as she moves towards you, "And now that I've found you, I have something to show you."
"Don't you have famous friends to entertain?" you question more than protest as she places her drink on the bar and takes your hand.
You catch a glimpse of a hint of a pout on her features, "Don’t worry, they’re occupied." Again, there is that suggestion that something more is going on. Of course, there is the very realistic possibility that your mind is just running away with crazy, erotic theories. But that potential doesn’t stop you from being any more turned on by the thought. Coupled with the fact that Rosé is dragging you through a gala to god-knows-where and you are practically dreaming. In that moment, she could take you to hell for all you care.
"You're going to love it, trust me," she assures, looking back at you as she continues leading.
"Oh, I’m sure," you reply. Your mind is racing with things from a blow job to taking her from behind, so needless to say, you are a bit disappointed when she stops at your destination.
"A photo booth?" you ask, a bit amused at how silly it seems.
Rosé is either undeterred or doesn’t register your lack of enthusiasm as she simply nods, still smiling and pulling you into the booth.
“It's fun! Come on," the blonde insists, pulling you by the hand into the photo booth. Judging by the size of it, the booth is clearly an afterthought to the gala planners, or maybe it just isn’t meant for two people at the same time to occupy it. You do your best to squeeze yourself in so she can close the curtain behind you. To your surprise, Rosé neatly slides onto your lap, her perfect, tight ass sitting right on top of where your hard-on has been growing for the last couple of minutes.
"Alright, so it takes six photos then prints them out there," she points to the deposit box under the screen. She either doesn't feel the bulge pressing firmly against her ass, or she is very good at playing naive.
"Okay," you nod, as if you are bothering to pay any attention to the pictures. 
As she shimmies on your lap to get into a better position, you decide to be bold and snake your arm around her slim waist, only to receive no complaints from the pop star. A countdown shows up on the screen, and when it says CHEESE, Rosé throws her arms around you, smiling openly as you try and fail not to look too bewildered. The screen replays your photo, and you can’t help but laugh at your own expense.
"Not bad," you grin, as the counter starts for the second photo.
"Not bad, but I think we can do better!" she says with a determined look on her face. When the screen says CHEESE again, Rosé suddenly leans over and licks the side of your face. You are so surprised you don't know how you react until the photo replays.
"Oh my god! That's great!" Rosé laughs.
You take the next few photos in the same fashion, going for ridiculous and silly in each one. After every photo, Rosé would shift her weight on your lap, rubbing against your erection each time. You are certain that she has to be well aware of what she is doing, and by the time the countdown for the last photo appears, you have made up your mind.
When the screen flashes, you turn Rosé's head to you and push your lips flush against hers. To your surprise, it takes less than half a second for her to respond, her hands moving up to cup your face. You kiss passionately like that until the simple need for air breaks you apart.
"I was starting to think all my work was for nothing," she says, a devilish grin on her face.
You raise an eyebrow at her; apparently, all your theories have just been confirmed. "You planned all this then?"
"I told you we know how to have our fun at these things," she comments, twirling a strand of hair in her finger.
"We?"
Mischief gleams in her gaze for a moment, “Maybe later. I know you’re a reporter, but you shouldn’t ask too many questions.”
She places a delicate finger to your lips as she gets up off your lap. The low ceiling of the booth doesn't allow her to stand up fully, but she doesn't have to as she crouches and reaches under her dress and begins pulling down her panties. "Fuck...these things are definitely ruined. I practically soaked them."
Her comment is more to herself than you, but your cock only grows harder at the revelation. You watch as she slides her thong down past her ankles, and her eyes fall to your crotch. With nimble fingers, she works on your button and zipper, springing free your aching cock.
 "Oh wow..." she mutters, eyeing it with an animalistic hunger. "I would love to wrap my lips around that..."
"You're more than welcomed to," you groan, starting to get that sense of teasing with the amount of anticipation that is building. You are tempted to just force her head onto your cock, but you stop short when she speaks.
"Later. We don't have a lot of time."
Your disappointment at that statement is short-lived as she stands again and turns around. Rosé lifts her skirt and hovers over your lap. Grabbing hold of your member, you let out a groan as she positions it at her entrance, rubbing it for a second in her dripping juices. Unable to hold out, you thrust your hips slightly upward, causing your tip to pierce her folds.
"Mmm, somebody's anxious," she purrs, her accent coming out thick.
"Can you fucking blame me?" you say through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab her waist. Before you can yank her down, she beats you to it and spears herself on your rod. "Oh fuck," you let out, feeling how tight her petite body is.
"God, you feel fucking amazing," you mutter into her shoulder.
"Ah~...and you're...much bigger than you look," she says, clearly trying to adjust to the size she just filled herself with in one go. Apparently, the discomfort isn't so bad as she soon begins lifting and dropping herself on your cock slowly. "Try not—ooh— to get too loud," she moans out, her ass rocking against you.
"Speak for yourself," you grunt, your hands gripping her waist firmly as you start to move your hips to match the movement of hers.
You can't wrap your head around the fact that you're fucking a member of one of the most famous girl groups in the world in a photobooth at a gala with hundreds of celebrities. Thankfully, you don't need to wrap your head around it, as long as you keep fucking her. With that in mind, you take control of the pace, gripping her waist and forcing yourself up into her. Each time you spear her pussy, it's like another piece of heaven. Her pussy is squeezing you like there's no tomorrow, only increasing the pleasure you get with each thrust.
"Shit, yes, yes! Fuck me," Rosé chants in a loud whisper as she puts her hand on the console to steady herself as you thrust up into her.
"God, you're fucking tight," you moan, continuing to pound her Australian pussy. "Someone could look in here at any second."
"Oooh, I know," she lets out a shuddering breath.
"You're getting off on that, aren't you?" you continue the dirty talk, sliding a strap off her shoulder so you can push her top down to fondle her pert breast.
"Yes, yes! It fucking turns me on," Rosé pants.
For a moment, you fear she has given you away, but you're too far gone to truly care at this point. Her hands slide down the console, and you're only aware of what happens when the shutter of the camera makes you look up. Looking over Rosé's shoulder as she bounces up and down, you see your photo displayed, Rosé's mouth opened in pleasure.
Grinning to yourself, you increase the speed of your thrusts, determined to get her orgasm face by the last photo.
"OH!" she squeals, surprised by your sudden turn of action. "Oh fuck, right there. Keep going," she pants, her hand covering yours and holding it firmly against her breast.
You squeeze firmly, shoving every inch of your meat deep into her snatch. Her lithe body arches back into you. She's panting heavily, each thrust causing her to take a sharp breath. You turn her head towards you and kiss her, her hand gripping the back of your head. It's sloppy and passionate, perfectly fitting the current heated moment that is occurring.
"I'm close. I'm so fucking close," Rosé chants, continuing to grip your head as she moves her hips to yours.
A few moments later, you have to cover her mouth with your hand as she shrieks her orgasm. Her walls clench around you as she comes, her juices flooding your cock.
"I'm going to cum," you warn, knowing you aren't going to last through her orgasm.
"Mmmph," Rosé says, until you remove your hand, "In me! Cum inside me!"
You don't take a second to question it, instead thrusting your hips upward, your cock pushing into her one last time as you empty rope after rope of your seed into her womb. You continue unloading into the star for what seems like eternity until you both finally collapse in the booth. Her body heaves on top of yours as she tries to catch her breath.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard before," you pant, causing the Blackpink singer to giggle.
"Don't speak too soon," she says, leaning back and kissing you softly on the lips. Thinking of what she could have planned only causes your cock to twitch inside her with anticipation.
One thing is for certain: this girl certainly knows how to have fun.
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
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bonny-kookoo · 3 months
Text
Jungkook
Princess | Short #1
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There's something happening between you two.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues
Length: 1.6k words
A/N: I will force feed you this AU and you will like it 👿
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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Despite Jungkook having agreed to help you, he still continues to work on that choreography the same way as before, ruthlessly pushing you further and further despite your very much constant complains.  
Apparently, according to him, it’s not about the whole contest anymore. But instead, to teach you ‘something’. What it is, he won’t say- but you’re sure that’s all just an excuse anyways to torture you.  
But you’re not going down so easily.  
“How many times do I need to tell you that you have your own snacks?!” Jungkook complains, showing the empty bag of crackers to you, at the sight of which you simply sit in the middle of the practice room, tail happily wagging as if you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “And I’m sure you drank my water too.” He accuses, and you just shrug.  
“Maybe.” You answer. “The crackers sucked though. Way too bland. Do you always just eat old people snacks?” You question, irritating him further. It’s clear that you’re testing your boundaries with him, and most of all his patience- because lets be real, its funny as hell to make him angry. Mostly because you know he’d never actually get too upset with you- if he was to ever do so, you’re sure he’d give you a fair warning way before that line has actually been stepped over.  
Though, clearly, you’ve not really realized yet that you two have actually become closer up until this point- and that also means that Jungkook no longer tries to stay as far away as he can from you.  
So when he returns to the practice room with new snacks of his own and a bottle of sweet electrolyte juice, you’re already up on your feet, happily looking what he’s got himself- before he suddenly takes off his hoodie, catching you entirely off guard and freezing you in place for a good second, because wow. 
He’s got an extensive collection of art beneath the skin of one of his arms up to his hand even, and his physique is definitely also not to be played around with. Years of serious dancing and working out have clearly created the man he is today-  
And suddenly, your world is dark for a good second, as he pushes his hoodie over your head.  
You’re confused, when he suddenly pulls on the sleeves your arms are not yet pulled through, as he instead ties them behind your back, successfully immobilizing you. He picks you up and sits you in one of the chairs after he's done, leaning in close once you're seated, summoning the audacity to smirk at you.  
“Timeout, you gremlin.” He tells you, before he sits down next to you to eat his food, all while you can’t do anything but watch, wide eyed and completely confused.  
And instead of arguing, you just pull in your legs after toeing off your shoes, pouting to yourself while enjoying his scent. You’d never openly admit it, but he does smell nice- both the laundry detergent he uses for his clothes, and, well, his own scent. You blame it on the fact that throughout your career until now, you’ve barely had any close interaction with another male hybrid like this- so it’s probably just the fact that you’re not used to this.  
“Take it off.” You demand, and he shakes his head.  
“Nop.” He denies, and you swing your legs on the chair as you’ve let them fall down again.  
“I need to go pee.” You tell him, and at that he sighs, before he unravels the sleeves- 
Just for you to slip your hands through them, and steal his bottle of juice as you run into the hallway, hearing his footsteps loudly right behind you, hand having slapped against the door you’d tried to swing close behind you. You don’t get very far when he suddenly grabs the back of the sweater, pulling you closer again to try and lift you. “No- No no, I really need to go pee!” You deny, standing in front of him now after having avoided his grip.  
“Alright, let’s go then.” He says, grabbing the hood of the sweater to drag you to the restrooms, taking the bottle away from you. “Go pee.” 
“I don’t have to anymore.” You say, and he narrows his eyes at you.  
“Too bad.” He denies. “Go squeeze something out, I’m not gonna take you again.” He threatens, and you reluctantly go anyways, before you re-emerge, glaring at him, until you have an idea. He watches as you stand in front of him, putting on your best puppy-dog eyes, and holding your arms out upwards to him. “What.” He asks, arms crossed.  
“Carry me?” You ask, and he thinks about it for a good second, before he agrees.  
“Alright.” He nods. 
“Wait, really?!” You ask, surprised- when suddenly, your world is upside-down, with him carrying you over his shoulder, one arm holding onto your legs so you don’t tip over and fall off his back. And he hears you laugh about it most of all, your fluffy, curled tail wagging right into his face if it wasn't for his other hand holding it down as well, his own lips turned into a smile.  
Because honestly, this is what your life is supposed to be like. Happy, fun, and most of all, normal.  
It’s clear to him that you’ve simply never really had any proper interactions before that could’ve taught you how to socialize and get used to general manners- if anything, you most likely always got what you wanted just to have you shut up and be quiet. And eventually, when you grew up into an adult that you are now, things simply had gotten stuck like this. 
The reason why he thinks this, is just how.. Helpless you seem at the simplest of interactions. From simple questions about your hobbies, to normal touches like a hug for a greeting, everything appears to be foreign to you. And you mask that insecurity and lack of understanding with attitude- because up until now, most likely, this must’ve been your best defense. Everyone would leave you alone if you got cranky, and so, these days, you must feel extremely confused and without any direction, considering that this doesn’t work with him.  
But you’ve got to learn. Not just basic manners, but also the fact that not everyone in the world is out to get you.  
Especially not him.  
Back in the practice room, you’re now on his lap, where he’s got your hands behind your back, held by your wrists in his hand, grip strong. “We gotta practice.” You whine, but he knows that’s not what you’re going to do once he lets go.  
“We do.” He agrees. “And we will, once you’ve finished your tantrum.” He tells oyu, and you scoff.  
“I’m not having a tantrum. You’re being an asshole!” You tell him. “Who cares if I eat your snacks? You can just get new one’s!” You complain, and he shakes his head at that.  
“It’s not about that. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is yours. If I want to take something from you, I’ll ask. If you want something from me, you’ll have to ask as well.” He explains, and you kick out your legs, trying to get off- but he’s got a strong hold on you, so you’re stuck in place.  
“I’m not a child!” You bark, slipping off of his legs to instead lay on the floor now. He raises a brow.  
“You’re sure acting like one.” He says, crossing his arms. “Don’t you have boundaries that you’d like respected?” He asks, looking down at where you’re laying on the floor at his feet, and you stare at him for a second with an unsure gaze, before you slowly sit up, eyes glossy. It’s obvious that sentence must’ve hit a sore spot for you, because you’re visibly fighting another emotional outburst as you try and swallow down any tears that want to escape.  
It’s quiet. Mostly because you don’t want to break down, and he doesn’t want to say anything that might set you off. He hates seeing you like this- but he knows that one way or another, you’ll have to face these things.  
“I’ll respect any boundary you give me.” He tells you. “I promise you that. But you’ll have to do the same for me, because that’s fair, right?” He asks, and you take in a deep breath, before you lean against his leg, head resting against his thigh.  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble quietly, and he reaches out to out a comforting hand on your head. “I’ll be more fair.” You say, and he smiles.  
“Thank you.” He offers, before you look up at him.  
“Can we practice more now?” You ask, and he shrugs.  
“If you want to.” He says, and you nod.  
“It’s.. Actually fun. If you don’t nag all the time.” You playfully argue, making him roll his eyes.  
“I’m just trying to get you to do your best.” He denies, and you smile brightly at that, tail wagging on the floor, a sight he’s come to really like.  
“Thank you.” You say, and for the first time, he has to admit- 
You can actually be really fucking cute, if you want to be. 
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k2ntoss · 2 months
Note
OMG MARA
Soft, lazy kisses and innocent touches that turn bolder and more sinful as you just can’t resist each other.
“This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.
THIS TWO WITH JASONNN PLEASEEE
girl, allow me to fangirl over this because YOU are here on my asks i feel so *screams* okay okay okay !!!! let me get at it, i just love how your mind works so here we go :3 bestfriends shit with jay
soft, lazy kisses and innocent touches that turn bolder and more sinful as you just can't resist each other + "this is wrong." "so wrong." while continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal
it was meant to be a lecture afternoon on his place, jason offered to help you prepare yourself for a literature test and it was like it at first but it was easy to get distracted when any other thing to talk about popped into your head and jason couldn't help it but to listen to you and then go on a long ramble with you.
right now he leans back into the couch, letting you lay your head on his chest as you go on rambling about thay last episode you watched of your favorite show, he listens to you with patience and he is bery much aware of the books that lay now untouched on your coffee table.
"so you know how that's just a metaphor to let us know that hannibal is actually in love with will? i mean, why would you compare yourself and your patient to achilles and patroclus if you weren't in love with him?" you ask him and jason looks like he thinks about it before nodding.
"i can see your point, but i haven't seen the show to know a little more about their interactions" he replies with a subtle shrug as his hand goes to softly play with your hair as he presses his chin on top of your head "but i do know that achilles and patroclus weren't just friends, that's pure bullshit"
and that makes you laugh, the way he always speaks his mind and how smart jason always sounds when it comes to literature and art never fails to amaze you. he looks down at you at the same time you look up at him at you can feel his heart beat a little faster at how close your faces are. you both like each other and you both know it, the subtle hand touching when you walk by his side that makes him smirk proudly when you blush or the lingering kisses on your forehead and cheeks are just too clear, the way you enjoy it too much when jason holds you and how you always find an excuse to nuzzle into his side makes him aware.
so why would he miss the chance to taste those pretty lips of yours? jason leans in to press his lips on yours, soft and sweet as his hands cup your cheeks, your own finding their way to covers his and it's all so cute because he pulls away with a small and shy smile "did you know you're just too cute when you ramble about the things you like?" jason says softly, his lips brushing against your before he kisses you again, one of his hand now down on your neck to bring you closer.
"i didn't knew, but have i told you already how good you look when you speak about the things you know?" you reply in a cheeky tone, pulling away as your hand goes down to hold onto his wrist before kissing his lips too, leaning into his body just so you could both lazily lay there on the couch and keep on kissing each other. soon enough the hand that was still cupping your cheek finds your waist and yours is now pressed against his chest, the kiss grows a little deeper when jason's tongue touches softly your bottom lip before making its way between your parted lips, breath growing a bit heavier.
you are fighting yourself to keep quiet, it was just jason and you on the living room but his roomate was on his own room too, you knew roy well enough to know he was like jay's brother and you knew thst maybe, just maybe you both didn't wanted to be found kissing almost on top of each other as your hands roammed over your bodies.
jason grunts against your mouth when your hand tugs at his shirt and be bites your lip playfully, pulling again without letting go off it just yet and with his eyes fixed on yours as he smirks at you, one of his hands starting to slide under your shirt making you feel his fingertips warm against your stomach.
there isn't a word worth saying when he lets go of your lip because as soon as he does you're back at kissing him, needier and hungrier as his tongue swirls into your mouth making him moan lowly when you suck on it, your fingers now caressing the nape of his neck before diving into his hair as his hand goes up your torso, teasingly touching the edge of your bra.
you took it as a sing, moving until you sat on his lap. jason held your hips with one of his arms around your body, his other hand now fully cupping one of your tits as the kiss got more heated, sloppy and aggressive. he was biting on your lips, letting your tongue wrestle with his and grunting when you first moved your hips against his pelvis.
"not here. roy could find us and i'm not really on the mood to let him see you like this" jason mumbles, forcing himself away from your lips as he sits on the couch, making you straddle him before standing up so he could carry you to his room. as he did he kissed your neck, smirking everytime a soft giggle came out of your lips as you tilted your head, fingers gripping his hair as he did bit your skin playfully.
"god jason, you're playing with me" you said in a whisper, the grin on your lips only fueled jason as he closed the door by kicking it and it made you moan the second he pushed your body against the wall that he shared with roy.
"am i now, princess?" he asks, whispering too and looking up at you as he was still holding you with your legs wrapped around his waist and as soon as you nod his hands travel from under your knees to your ass, giving you a playful squeeze before devouring your lips again.
jason feels your hands tugging his shirt from his back, starting to pull it up and he pushes you a little more so his hands can do the same with your shirt and it's messy because you can't seem to stop kissing and let out muffled moans and grunts into each other's mouth.
"this is wrong." jason chuckles as he pulls away from your lips, pupils blown wide as he manages to take off your shirt and his hands tremble a little when he unclasps your bra and lets it fall from your shoulder, moaning when he's able to see your bare breasts.
"so wrong." you agree with a sweet giggle, your hands pulling up his shirt and taking it off before tossing it away. it wasn't that you didn't felt anything for jason but there was this voice inside your heads that whispered about this maybe not working between you, but being honest there wasn't two people more meant to be than you.
knowing this by how well you got along, by how you completed each other was soothing because it meant the same for you. the lust and arousal also complemented by how you loved him and he loved you made every touch and kiss a hundred times more intense. it's easy to push that thought aside when he puts you down, his hands going down to unbutton your jeans as his lips glide down your neck, your hands also undoing jason's belt and unbuttoning his jeans before your touch wanders down to caress his half-hardened cock.
the low moan that leaves his mouth as he sucks a small mark on your shoulder makes you grin, he's now pulling your pants down and gripping at your hips with a smirk as you stroke him over his boxers and it turns him on so much it's not so long until you both manage to let all your clothes scattered over the floor of jason's room.
"you look so damn good like this," he mutters against your ear, his voice rumbles at how deep it turns when your hand moves up and down around his dick, his fingers tracing a path between your thighs until he finds your core and he grins widely when he feels your wetness "being so wet just for me."
the stroke he makes between your folds drags a moan out of your lips and he hushes you with a bruising kiss, thumb circling on your clit as your fingers trace his cock and one of your legs is wrapped again around his hips to give him easier access to your cunt.
"you have to be quiet, baby." he whispers against your lips as you rock your hips against his hand and he sounds already so dominant you only manage to nod, holding back a deep moan when his fingers collect your slick before he pushes two into your entrance, stretching you in a way that made you moan silently, lungs suddenly breathless by how he found your sweet spot with such an ease it got your legs weak.
"fuck jay," you whine lowly, trying to keep your voice as soft as you can because you want to be loud to at least muffle the sounds on his fingers inside your aching pussy "i need you inside of me, please..." you beg in a pleading whisper, eyes glazed as you move your hand to press his tip against your throbbing clit.
the need and lust on your voice and face makes him growl and he takes his fingers out of you, quickly replacing your hand with his. stroking himself he uses your slick and his precum to make sure he can slide into your warmth. it only takes him seconds until jason pulls you up again, wrapping your legs around his hips as he uses one of his hands to guide himself inside of you and he grunts as soon as your thight walls swallow his shaft.
"that's it... taking me so good," he says, letting you hear the smirk on his lips as he presses your back against the wall and gives a first slow thrust "it's like this pussy was made just for me, isn't it?"
and he sounds just so filthy you can't help but moan this time a little louder, jason chuckles at that as his hands hold onto your hips to start thursting into you a little faster and harder. your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your fingernails sink on his skin amd the way he looks at your parted lips makes him feel so proud of himself.
"i- i need you to ruin me, jay." you'd say when his fingers grip a little harder on your plushy hips "don't care if someone hears me, please make me scream your name." and the way you beg for him makes him feel even more powerful.
"want me to make you scream like a pretty whore, baby?" he asks with a deep thrust, his eyes dark with lust and need "i'm gonna ruin you so bad, you won't ever feel so good again in your life if it's not my cock inside of you, you'll be all mine."
you'd be lying if you said you wouldn't cum just with his words but it was a mix of everything. the filthy talking, the way he fucked you pressed against the wall while picking you up like a little toy and how he looked at you as if he needed to own you in every possible way; you just wanted to let him get his way with you, wanted him to ruin sex for you because you knew not other person was going to be able to bring this much pleasure to you.
jason kept going, his deep strokes making you cry and whine as you held onto him for dear life. head falling back as he kissed and marked your neck and tits, nibbling on your nipples as his thick cock kissed your cervix, bringing you to the edge and making him growl heavily when you clenched around him like a vice.
"you feel so fucking thight, princess, tell me how much you need to cum." he asks breathlessly as he slows his pace a little, kissing sloppier pecks on the side of your neck as he waits for your reply.
"so much, jay, need to cum so much." you beg in a whiny tone, your eyes fixed on his and he nods, kissing your lips soothingly because he knows you're overwhelmed and your climax tenses your body more and more with each thrust.
"c'mon, baby... cum all over this cock." he grunts, kissing your chin as he goes back to that fast and hard pace, pulling you down on him and moving your body as if it was nothing "cum and scream my name like the little slut you are,"
his voice and the way he moves inside of you is enough to make you moan loudly, crying his name out loud as your body jerks in an intense orgasm that makes your inner walls clench around him in a way that made it seem like your pussy was pushing him out, feeling that made him grunt heavily, emptying his load inside of you with a messy and deep thrust.
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owliellder · 8 months
Text
The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.
Cross posted onto AO3
Session 2: Color Matching
You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.
It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.
You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.
That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.
Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.
It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.
You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.
Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.
"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.
"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"
You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."
Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."
You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.
"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."
Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.
"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."
It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"
"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."
"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.
He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.
By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"
The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."
You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.
"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.
"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..
Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."
It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.
"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."
He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...
"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."
"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.
"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.
Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.
You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.
"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."
Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.
As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.
"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"
Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-
"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"
You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"
"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."
You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.
"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."
You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."
His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."
Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.
You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.
You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.
Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.
"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."
Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.
"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.
You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.
"I'm sorry."
Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.
You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.
"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."
It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.
"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.
"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.
"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.
"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."
Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.
"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.
You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.
It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.
You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.
Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.
He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.
You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.
You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.
You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"
Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.
"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.
The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.
"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.
"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.
Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."
You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.
After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.
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amyispxnk · 2 months
Text
My Kind of Woman
Chapter 1: Special.
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Series Masterlist
Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.
Chapter summary - You and Joel finally sit down together after a year of stolen glances.
A/N: OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE WRITTEN A FIC I MISSED IT SM. Let’s all collectively pray that I actually finish this series, btw. It kind of just came to me earlier today and I barely have anything planned but.. you know me by now.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: alcohol, light language, (kind of) fluff, nothing much really in this chapter
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“Come on man. We’ve been here for almost two years and you still haven’t made any friends. I see how you look at her- just say something! It is actual torture having to watch you dance around people like this.” Ellie groans dramatically, trying to kick some sense into the man who sits across from her. Joel just grunts, continuing to eat his stew as she looks blankly at him. “She’s nice enough.” She adds after a moment, trying to get him to say something.
After more silence, she speaks again with an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’ll just go talk to her then, tell her that my old man has a big, fat crush on her. Maybe then you two can-” her smirk falters when Joel interrupts her.
“Don’t you dare go doin’ that,” he grumbles “Y’ gon’ make me look stupid-”
“So you talk to her then! Stop moping around all the time.” Ellie concludes, before standing up and saying goodbye, going to clear her tray and giving him a look before leaving the mess hall.
Joel watches her go before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. First, Tommy was on his ass about making some friends - “You’re scarin’ people, y’know. Givin’ everyone death stares when you walk around, being so.. withdrawn all the time. It’d do ya some good,” he’d told Joel one evening at the Tipsy Bison - and now Ellie was too. And, knowing Ellie, that kid wouldn’t be as patient, probably already concocting some sort of plan to force you and Joel together.
As he leans his head back and mulls over his options, he looks out the window. Of course you’re out there, playing with the kids of Jackson. You’re one of the most popular people in Jackson, always being friendly and knowing just about everyone.
..Except him, of course. You’ve had some small chats with him, but you never really see him. He sees you though, having been.. observing you for the past year, keeping his distance - being respectful, in his eyes, being a wuss, in Ellie’s - and he knows enough about you to know that he probably has no chance with you.
You’re funny, sweet, fucking stunning, and he’s seen multiple guys try to approach you at the bar. Younger, more attractive guys. Mainly, you help teach kids things like art and music at the Jackson school, and you also do patrols a few times a week. On some nights you also sing at the Tipsy Bison when there are events and dances. The band will play, often with you as the lead singer. He always makes sure he’s there when you are.
The first time he saw you was on one of his very first nights in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy had dragged him along, Ellie going too, with promise of a fun night.
He came mainly to keep an eye on Ellie and to get some alcohol in his system, not expecting anything ‘fun’ to happen. Boy, was he wrong.
It had been around half an hour of him nursing his whiskey in the corner of the room when you came onto stage, million-dollar smile on your face as you spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening, Jackson!” You began, already getting a loud cheer from the crowd of people there that night. “It’s great to be singin’ for you again, you know I missed ya! Now, tonight, we got a few songs lined up, but this first one is a special request from Mister Tommy Miller over there!” You had said, pointing over to Tommy who was sitting with Joel, the younger brother grinning widely at you.
The band started and you began to sing one of Joel’s favourite songs from before the outbreak - somehow, it sounded even better in your voice. Joel glared at Tommy when he realised what he had done, and Tommy just shrugged before looking back at you. He couldn’t stay mad at him though, because by the end of it he was entranced by the sweet melody of your voice and how gorgeous you looked singing your heart out under the lights.
You were beaming at the audience after finishing as they showered you with applause, though it took Joel a second to actually start clapping and stop staring at you.
He tried denying it, but, as cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for him.
It scared him, definitely. It had barely been a year since he lost Tess, and although he wouldn’t go as far as saying they were in love, it was the closest thing he’d had to it in decades. To think he even liked you from just hearing you sing one song.. that fucking terrified him.
Which is why he kept his distance for so long. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he realised he actually liked you. He hadn’t had any sort of connection other than Ellie and Tommy in so long, and they were his family. You, though.. you were so different.
He sighed deeply before opening his eyes again, finishing his meal as he watched you smile and laugh in the snow through the window.
A week later, Tommy manages to convince Joel to come to the Tipsy Bison again, promising ‘no funny business’ to go on. Joel isn’t sure he’d really mind.
Time goes by quietly, a simple Monday afternoon not having much going on for them, but then you turn up. He sees you as soon as you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar tiredness in your eyes. It looks like you’ve been on a long patrol.
You look around before noticing Tommy and Joel, walking over with a small smile.
Joel stares daggers at Tommy. “You said no funny business,” he grits, a strange panic flooding his system. Did he brush his hair this morning? Do his clothes look tidy? Did he have anything in his teeth?
“Ain’t no funny business here, brother.” Tommy grins at him, not giving him a chance to reply as you get to their table.
“Hi Tommy!” You smile, hugging him before turning to Joel. “And Joel! It’s so great to see you!”
Joel blinks at you. Fuck, you’re talking to him. He needs to say something back.
“Yeah, you too.” He mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly.
If you pick up on his discomfort, you don’t mention it, looking around before continuing.
“Are y’all stayin’?” You ask, now leaning forward a little with your palms on the table.
“As far as I’m concerned.” Tommy replies, to which you nod. “Y’ wouldn’t mind if I sit with ya, then?” You ask.
“Not at all, darlin’.” He says, and you slide into the booth with them, starting up a conversation about what you did today, mentioning that draining patrol you just got back from.
“I’m tellin’ ya - morning patrols are like hell on earth, Tommy. ‘S not fair to be makin’ us go out at 6 am.” You groan, to which he smiles. “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix.” Tommy replies, which makes you perk up.
“You have coffee? Since when?” You gasp, wide-eyed at him.
“New trade opened, and since Joel here is such an addict, we got our hands on some.” He gestures to Joel, and you look over at him, a smile creeping onto your face.
“I see.. being Tommy’s brother has its perks then? Got you hoarding all the coffee for yourself?” You tease, to which Joel chuckles quietly at, sitting up a little taller.
“Not hoardin’. Nobody else has asked for any.” He tells you, looking into your eyes and trying not to get lost in them for too long.
“And if I wanted some?” You say, tilting your head sideways slightly as it rests on your palm.
“Y’ always welcome to come get some, sweetheart.” He isn’t sure what possessed him to use the pet name with you, but he’s very thankful for it as a soft crimson paints your cheeks and you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, thank you.” You reply, before a man comes over to get you your drink. “Whiskey, neat please.” You tell him and he goes off to get it. Joel is pleasantly surprised by your choice. He never really thought about what you might order from the bar, but the fact that you shared the same drink of choice made you even more attractive in his eyes.
2 hours later, Tommy had gone off to handle an issue with the council and you and Joel had been talking and drinking and laughing. It’s around 3 now and he barely realises in time for his afternoon patrol, finishing off his whiskey before telling you, noticing the slight sadness that appears on your face at him having to go.
“Oh! Alright then. I’ll see you around. Have a good patrol, Joel.” You smile at him, and he offers you a small smile back.
“See ya ‘round.” He says before leaving and going back to the stables.
Later that evening, Ellie somehow figures out what went down earlier at the bar (Joel’s already planning on giving Tommy a talking to tomorrow) and makes fun of him endlessly for it, saying that he was apparently so shy when he was talking with you.
“I’d have never thought that someone could make the big, bad Joel all nervous and flustered, but she just continues to prove me wrong. She’s definitely special, huh.” Ellie grins, before bidding Joel goodnight and leaving him with his thoughts.
He hated to admit it, but Ellie was right in saying that. You were special.
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Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞
Next Chapter
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months
Note
How about Kieran practicing asking out his crush in front of some Pokémon in the terrarium? Oh and said crush is currently using the synchro machine with a Pokémon who can easily blend in with the ones found in the terrarium and is among the group watching / listening to him. Thankfully his crush likes him back.
Here's some cuteness for Pokemon Day! ❤
..........
'Man, this synchro machine is fun.'
It was just another warm and sunny day in the Terarium, with you running around as a Smeargle and painting on rocks to your heart's content. A few others were doing the exact same thing, not knowing that you were actually a human trainer in disguise.
It was nice becoming a Pokemon for a little while. You didn't have any immediate responsibilities nor would you attract unwanted attention from others.
People kept coming up to you asking for battles, especially after you became the new BB League Champion. Even now you didn't think it was that big of a deal...
Besides, you still felt bad about ripping the title from Kieran.
You knew that he needed to be humbled and beaten in battle, although the guilt lingered as you recalled how devastated he was that he lost to you again.
Fortunately, things have gotten a lot better for him, as he learned to enjoy Pokémon battles again and realize it's just a silly title at the end of the day.
It's not something he needed to have in order to be worthy of love and respect.
All in all, your friendship has grown stronger than ever. To the point where the casual battle you both had didn't stress him out. He enjoyed it despite its outcome.
But today you haven't seen him anywhere in the academy, although Drayton pointed out that he ventured into the Terarium...and said nothing more than that.
You figured he just needed time to ease back into everything after a much-needed break in Kitakami.
Of course you two recently saved the whole land from Pecharunt's possession-spree. So you'd give him time to ease back into things.
So while he was doing whatever in the Terarium, you were just living the life of a Smeargle, painting a pokeball on the face of a boulder. One or two others have joined you, inspired by your art, and a few stray Deerlings and other Pokémon stopped by to observe.
Then suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.
"Th-This is kinda awkward, but...you think you and your friends could help me out?"
"Smear??" Spinning around, you completely forgot you were a Smeargle for a second, eyes wide to see Kieran there, and he was holding...a paper?
'Oh right..I'm a Pokémon, he can't tell..' You realize and internally sigh with relief, curious as to what he wrote.
"I'm just..t-trying to ask out this person I really like, but..I'm too embarrassed to do it in front of people. So...Pokémon might be better? I dunno.." He grumbled to himself, shaking his head. "Just let me know if this is good or not."
You looked to the other Pokemon, who seemed to understand him with a collection of nods, chirps, and growls. You gave your approval with a thumbs-up.
The way Kieran smiled at you made your heart skip a beat.
"Okay, th-thanks...ahem.." Clearing his throat, he glanced at the paper, before pocketing it and looking directly at you. "So..[y/n]..."
'It's...me? Oh my arceus..' You held onto your tail brush, trying not to give yourself away but at the same time feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 'Be cool, be cool, be cool-'
"I know I..wasn't a great friend back then, but I'm glad we were able to move past all of that stuff. You've made me happy in ways I could never imagine. I lost my spark..and you were the one to put it back into me, and I'm forever grateful. That being said..I-I...um...I'm ready to be more than just friends....so....I.....w-wowzers..this is tough..I dunno if I can do this." His posture became slumped, and you frowned a little.
"Smear, smearg!"
'Kieran, c'mon..don't give up.' You silently encouraged.
He perked up at your cry and saw the other Pokémon cheering him on, and he shyly smiled. "Thanks guys, so..would you...um..like to go out with me, [y/n]? Or wait, that might be comin' off too strong..uh...wanna grab somethin' at the cafeteria later---no, no..that sounds too much like Drayton...ugh....I'll be fine."
Rubbing his hands over his face, he calmed himself down and looked at the group, sheepish. "Worst they can say is no, right? But...I-I hope they don't. They mean a lot to me..although if they wanna stay friends, I don't mind that too.." He mumbled.
You felt a strong tug on your heartstrings upon seeing the despondent look on his face. Like he was expecting you to reject him right away.
It made you wanna desynchronize right now and reassure him you accept his confession, but you didn't wanna scare him with the fact you were listening this whole time.
Maybe you could drop subtle hints.
You wanted to express your feelings for him, too, in your own way.
So after the Pokémon dispersed, and Kieran stood there pondering over what to do next, he noticed you walking up to him, handing him a rock.
"What's this..?"
After close examination, he realized there was a heart painted on it.
"You think [y/n] would like this?" He blinked, before smiling and kneeling down, patting you on the head. "Thanks, Smeargle...y'know your tail color is also their favorite color. Funny coincidence, right?"
"Smear.." You pointed to yourself, tilting your head.
"Yes. You." He laughed a little. "You don't happen to belong to them, do ya?"
"Smear..smear!" You nod.
"Oh? Where's your trainer?"
"..........."
A look of realization crosses his face. "Hold on-"
Suddenly, you switched off the synchro machine, causing your Smeargle to vanish and him to freeze, now understanding what was going on.
It was you.
This whole time you were synched to it, listening to his confession and watching him fumble over his words like an idiot.
After you emerged from your hiding place, back in your actual body and Smeargle at your side, you searched around for Kieran--only to find him sitting by a small pond, his back to you.
"Ki?"
His shoulders were tense, although he didn't dare look at you. Instead his face was buried into his hands, trying to make himself look as small as possible.
Maybe, just maybe, if he sat very very still....you wouldn't see him.
But unfortunately luck didn't shine on him this time, as you just calmly sat beside him, chuckling. "C'mon, that was actually really sweet. Practicing in front of Pokémon. They don't judge."
"...I-I didn't know you were there.." He spoke, voice slightly muffled. "I'm so embarrassed...this isn't how it was s'pposed to go-"
"Well, if you want my answer..it's yes."
"......huh?" Peeking through his fingers, he gazed at you for a long while, wondering if you were joking or not. But the look in your eyes was warm, and your smile genuine.
"I was trying to use Smeargle to express my own feelings, but just so there's no confusion...I'll go out with you, Kieran." You told him, feeling your heart beating fast again. "You make me happy and..I wanna keep being there for you. Through the good and the bad. So...I'm ready to be more than friends, too."
He was stunned. "Really..?"
"Yes." You opened your arms up to him, and a few moments later he uncovered his face to hug you tightly. It lasted for several seconds, before you pulled away to kiss his cheek.
Immediately, he began burning red. "W-Wowzers...so..we're official, huh? Just like that?"
"Yep." You chuckled at his flusteredness, intertwining your fingers with his own. "And if you wanna go on a little cafeteria date, I don't mind."
All Kieran could do was nod and smile, his gaze going to your Smeargle who was painting absentmindedly on a different rock. And when it was done, it presented you two with a simple drawing of you holding hands with him.
They were stick figures, but it was still a masterpiece.
You got yourselves a little wingman in the form of a Painter Pokémon.
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meowufff · 10 months
Text
This is my first actual post on Tumblr ever so pls bear with me. Also, English is not my first language so pls excuse any mistakes I make :)
So, this whole thing here started just as a joke bc I was curious if anyone else was feeling constantly tired all day no matter how long I sleep. But it all somehow escalated a bit and I may have started hyperfixating on it so well, now it actually became a little survey.
I also wanted to mention that I only asked the artist in my little Tumblr bubble, which is mostly tmnt content, so my results are mostly referring to tmnt artists.
In total, I asked 143 people if they could remember the last time they woke up and just felt actually rested for more than half of the day.
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I probably could have been more specific with my question but again, I did not actually planned to let it become so big. Personally, for me being rested means, having a clear head, no headache or foggy mind without consuming any caffeine.
So out of 143 people, 100 answered me and I tried my best to sort all of the answers after the criteria “good-sleep-schedule” and “bad-sleep-schedule” and also noted when exactly they last felt actually rested into either the last days, weeks, months, years or “???” when they couldn’t remember or didn’t mention anything specific.
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And let’s just say… it does not really look good. Out of 100 people, only 18 have an actual good sleep schedule. Out of these 18 people, 13 felt really rested in the last days, 2 in the last weeks, only one person in the last months and 2 in the last years.
Out of the 82 of people who have a bad sleep schedule, 10% lastly felt rested in the last days, 11% in the last weeks, 11% in the last months, 30% in the last years, and 38% couldn’t remember or didn’t specify it.
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While reading all your answers I came to realize being sleep deprived is not just bc any of them thought “Oh it would be really neat to stay up till 4 am!” or smth like that.
A lot of the artists who answered me mentioned that they have trouble falling asleep or staying asleep due to stuff like insomnia, chronic pain, other issues, or children (yeah, ok, there was just one who had a child but still).
While analyzing I mostly referred the situations to my own experience with going to sleep or rather not going to sleep...
I usually don’t have problems falling asleep but trouble actually putting my stuff away and going to bed bc I don’t want to end the day or just don’t want to go to sleep (don’t ask why, I have no idea why I am like this). While having these “episodes” I often doodle smth, binge reading some fanfics, or watch whatever I can find on the internet until I’m just falling asleep or can convince myself that it is 3 am and I really should go to bed now.
So, my personal theory about why sleep deprivation is so common among Tumblr artists is not bc they do art all night. My theory is that a lot of people who have trouble falling asleep due to insomnia, pain, or other issues are filling the time until they hopefully fall asleep with their art, doodles, writings, or whatever their creative minds can bring up, to help the time pass.
In total that would mean that not all artists are sleep deprived but more that a lot of people who have trouble falling asleep do a lot of art or creative stuff in general.
Something I could also imagine is, that if they start doing art while waiting for sleep, they start to concentrate a lot on creating more and start procrastinating sleep even if they actually get tired bc they wanna do art and fuck up their non-existing sleep schedule even more but that could also just be me projecting here.
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I know that is probably no kind of big revelation but for me it was kind of surprising to see how many people here are as sleep deprived as me and due to what reasons.
I’m not going to preach to any of you to get that problem solved or smth, I have no right to tell you what to do and would be a major hypocrite so instead I really which everyone to get some kind of good sleep schedule one day and the joy of waking up and feeling completely rested at least thrice per week.
I absolutely love all your art and thank you a thousand times for helping me with this spontaneous survey!
I would love to hear your opinions on my theory and conclusion so pls don’t be shy and feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made or tell me your own theories :D
Also, if my question is still sitting in your inbox, feel free to answer! I’m gonna keep ma big ass excel table so I can edit all the results anytime. And maybe, one day, I'm gonna continue this survey and go into more detail but for now I need to leave it like this.
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Ok, that's all I got
BYE!
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Thanks to all participants
@abbeyofcyn @angelpuns @beannary @bulbabutt @camilieroart @cementgeek @cheesyescapade @cokowiii @easterartist @frosteaart @gemini-forest @happyfoxx-art @heckitall @hellishgayliath @holy-sweetsour-milk @icepopcider @idiot-mushroom @iscreamkitty @kovalitics @laseralligator @lieutenantbiscute @matchstique @mightyanxiety @miiukkaa @mr-doodles @pezhead @probably-not-a-rutabaga @pumpkster @sad-leon @sassatello @sewercrocodileart @sheep-turtles-and-pizza @signanothername @spectra-bear @stephuart @tangledinink @tapakah0 @tasenwiththerobots @tblsomedoodles @thegunnsara @triona-tribblescore @turrondeluxe @valen-timez @vangh17a @wraenata @zinovi768 @debb987 @dianagj-art @goatedgreen @indieyuugure
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lineffability · 2 months
Text
The Serpent Files 🐍
chapters: 5/5 rating: M/E wordcount: 13.9k au: human, the magnus archives
summary: Aziraphale works as the head archivist at Eden Institute. Crowley has been supplying them with potentially cursed artifacts over the years -- until he himself gets entangled in a case that turns him from associate to client...
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[ art credit and support credit and 1000 hugs to: @chernozemm my beloved ]
start reading:
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“Ouroboros. Yes. The introductory statement is meant to be concise, though, akin to a title. You can describe the necklace in detail in your statement, Crowley. Also, I need you to state your name. It occurs to me I don't actually know it. I mean. I'm not saying I want to know your full name, or anything. Just, all these years– erm. You'd have to state it anyway. For formality's sake. We have a system.”
“Sure. So. Name's Crowley.”
“I… know that part. [sighs] Full names, please, throughout.”
“Ah. Anthony J Crowley.”
“I said full names, please. What's the J stand for?”
“Erm. Uh. Just a J, really. Thought it added a certain gravitas, y’know, flair. Je ne sais quoi. Makes people treat you serious, a J like that.”
“Uh. Alright. Well. Anthony J. Crowley, then. I suppose. Seriously? [clears throat] So. Please start from the beginning.”
“Mmmmhhhh wellll. I’ve been coming to Eden for, what, now, six years maybe?”
“I believe so. Yes.”
“Anyway, not like I go here often. We’ve met a handful of times, you and me, maybe nine, ten? I mean, it was ten times. I know. Uh. Not like I counted or anything. Just, coming here, it stays with you a bit, doesn’t it? All that occult shit. Which is why I come here, of course. I’m – what should I call it? A… supplier. Of sorts. I work with – this is confidential, right?”
“Yes. Internal use only. We don’t give out those files. Your words are safe with me. Erm. Us.”
“Good. Right. I work with the Doomsday Group. Can’t really talk about it much, but you’ve heard of them. Shady stuff, crime, theft, trade, religious artifacts, apocalyptic jazz, all that. Supernatural stuff, too, sometimes. Or claimed supernatural. You know I don’t believe in all that. Well. Didn’t. I didn’t believe in it. Now… uh, anyway. Sometimes we get those weird artifacts, right, apparently cursed, so I bring them to you, to, to check, or verify, or call bullshit. Or to lock them away, or whatever you do with them when you buy them off our lot. That’s how we met. Best part of this shit job, really, if I’m being honest. I didn’t ask to be– hm. Wish I could just– ngh. Confidential, right? Wish I could just be done with them. Run off. Can’t, though. But erm. Forget I said that, alright? Please.”
[pause] “You're rambling a bit, de- Crowley. Or should I, should I call you Anthony now?”
“Hell no. I mean – Crowley's fine. You've called me Crowley for years, haven't you? What, now you don't like it?”
“No, no, I do in fact quite – well, for propriety’s sake, the official documentation, I thought – nevermind. So, Crowley, while the background information on your…job is reasonable, might I politely remind you why you’re here? Please talk less about our personal relationship, or at least only insofar as it pertains to the case, and more about what happened to you since… since you put on that necklace.”
“Right. Righty-oh. S’ just, never been in this room before. The tape recorder, all that. I’ve only ever been here as a sort of… co-worker? Nah. You’re not my co-worker, you’re better than that. As a tradesman. So to be here as a client , it feels… surreal.”
“That is understandable. I trust you will muddle through, though.”
“Hey – remember the first thing I said when I came here? Today, I mean.”
[continue reading]
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dreamwritesimagines · 10 months
Text
Garden of Secrets [30] - Lunaria
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤
Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!
Summary: After arguments comes sincerity.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence, angst.
Word Count: 5000
Series Masterlist
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 Any married couple would tell you that fights were normal in a marriage.
You knew that, but this whole silence was beginning to feel more and more like the end of the said marriage.
You and Benedict hadn’t talked to each other since the night of the dinner party at Lady Margery’s house, and you and Benedict were getting quite good at sharing the house without even talking about it. You wouldn’t have known he was actually staying in the house if you hadn’t paid attention to the occasional sounds of door closing and the footsteps.
You didn’t know when you had learned to recognize him from his footsteps alone, but apparently it had happened somewhere along the line.
You knew Benedict had left an hour ago because you had seen him pass through the garden from the window of the library. You had been so immersed in your book that you didn’t even notice the familiar carriage pulling in front of the house until you heard Teddy’s voice ringing through the hallway.
“Y/N?”
You turned your head and put your book down, then rushed out of the library to go downstairs.
“Teddy?” you asked as he ran to you, clutching a couple of flowers in his arms and you let out a laugh, then hugged him.
“Hello there,” you said and smiled at your aunt as you saw her at the end of the hallway. “And hello auntie.”
“Hello my dearest,” she said, coming to kiss your cheek. “We figured we could pay you a quick visit on our way to the pastry shop.”
“I’m glad you did,” you said and took the flowers from Teddy. “These are beautiful Teddy, thank you!”
“They’re from your garden,” he said helpfully and you nodded your head.
“Mm hm, I recognized them,” you said and held his hand so that you all could go to the drawing room. “Pastry shop then?”
“Yes and then we will go to the park,” your aunt said. “So that I can meet my friends and Teddy can play with his friends.”
“The weather is pretty nice,” you mused and turned to your maid. “Paula, could you bring some lemonade and biscuits please? Thank you.”
“Of course ma’am,” she said and left the room, and you hugged Teddy sideways as he sat beside you.
“How is uncle?” you asked your aunt and she heaved a sigh.
“He is alright.”
“Any um…” you trailed off and stole a look at Teddy before clearing your throat. “Any letters?”
“None,” she said with a smile. “I told you, there’s no need to be worried.”
“Seems to be engraved in me by now.”
A maid walked in, carrying a tray and made her way to you to place three glasses of lemonade as well as three plates of biscuits on the coffee table. You thanked her as Teddy grabbed his glass, then took a huge sip.
“Is Benedict home?” he looked up at you and you heaved a sigh, then shook your head.
“No my sweet, he left an hour ago.”
“When can I make more sculptures?” he asked and you tried to smile.
“Whenever you want,” you said. “Is it alright if I help you though?”
“Not Benedict?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. “But he knows so much about art.”
You nodded your head.
“Benedict has been working on a new painting lately,” you whispered as if giving him a secret. “He’s a bit busy but we can do it together?”
He thought for a moment, then his head whipped up.
“I could teach you!” he said as if the thought just hit him and you let out a laugh.
“Exactly!” you said, “It would be fun!”
“Benedict is working on a new painting?” your aunt asked and you looked up at her, then nodded your head.
“Yeah,” you said. “He’s been…he’s been busy.”
She raised her brows, her eyes searching your face as if she wanted to see whether you were telling the truth but the gong of the clock on the wall made her turn her head.
“Oh I’m going to be late,” she said and got up from her chair with you following her suit. “We’d better go, come on Teddy.”
“Alright,” Teddy pushed the biscuit into his mouth, making you bite down a smile and he came to hug you.
“I’ll see you later,” you said, pressing a kiss on top of his head before you hugged your aunt. She hugged you back, then pulled back to look at you better.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
Your stomach did a painful flip but you managed to offer her a small smile.
“Of course,” you assured her. “I’m fine.”
She heaved a sigh and kissed your cheek.
“We’re having tea as soon as possible.”
“Works for me,” you said and watched her and Teddy walk out of the drawing room to make their way downstairs. Your smile dropped and you let out a breath, then sat back down on the sofa again.
“Great,” you muttered to yourself. “Today should be fun.”
                                                                      *
 Towards the afternoon, Lottie had sent you a note, asking you to join her for a picnic but you had written back, saying you weren’t feeling your best. It wasn’t a lie at all, you really didn’t want to see anyone, instead all you wanted was just burying yourself into the covers and ignore the outside world.
But apparently you wouldn’t be so lucky.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the approaching footsteps while you laid on the sofa, your gaze fixed on the fireplace until someone cleared their throat by the door, making your head whip up.
“Josie?” you asked and pushed yourself up off the sofa to stand up. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to see how you were, obviously,” she said and entered the drawing room. “Not well as I can tell.”
You rolled your eyes. “Did auntie talk to you?”
“No, why?” she asked. “Should she have?”
“No, it’s just—” you motioned vaguely at outside. “She came by for a visit today with Teddy.”
“And?”
“And nothing,” you said. “She seemed worried about me for some reason.”
“Could the reason be that you were staring into nothing like a corpse by any chance?” she asked you and you shot her a look.
“I was just in deep thought, don’t dramatize it.”
She frowned slightly, then shook her head.
“Anyway,” she said and went to the armchair to sit down. “Has there been any other letters sent from hell and its biggest demon?”
“Auntie says no,” you muttered, pressing your palms into your eyes before lowering your hands. “But I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to uncle to make sure.”
Josie hummed.
“What about you?” you asked. “How have you been?”
“I’m fine,” she said without so much as any hesitation and you tilted your head.
“Josie.”
“What?”
“Come on,” you said. “Don’t do that to me at the very least.”
“I really am fine,” she said. “I’m married now, he cannot do anything to me. The days he would threaten to either sell me to a brothel or send me to the madhouse are gone.”
A shiver ran down your spine. “But if they speak to anyone—”
“Andrew is a respected lord who inherited his respectful father’s title and wealth,” she said. “Father is a no one. There’s nothing he could say that the ton would believe over our word.”
You started pacing in the room.
“I suppose,” you said. “But even if they do come here, we’re not telling Teddy.”
Josie shook her head fervently. “Of course not. He will not know or talk to them.”
You could feel the tension coming back to your muscles as the throbbing in your wrist returned, and you rubbed at it, gritting your teeth.
“Why doesn’t he just die?” you spat. “He was coughing like crazy when uncle took me and Teddy in years ago, he spends most of his days drunk, why doesn’t it just get to him already?”
“Trust me, I’m looking forward to that day,” Josie said. “I’ll celebrate it.”
“If he so much as tries to get Teddy like he said in that letter—”
“He’s not going to do that,” Josie said. “None of us will let him.”
You massaged your temples and huffed out a breath.
“What did Benedict say?” she asked you and you turned to look at her, then pursed your lips.
“That’s not important right now.”
Josie sat up straighter.
“What?” she asked. “Wait Y/N you have told him, haven’t you?”
“No because I don’t need to,” you said. “I can handle it if they come here.”
Josie gawked at you in complete silence, then a dry laughter spilled from her lips.
“You’re jesting,” she said. “Surely you are jesting.”
“Why would I tell him?”
“Why would you not tell him?” she hissed at you, jumping on her feet. “What are you going to do if father decides to come here? And the staff hasn’t been told—”
“I’ll tell them.”
“And if he walks up to Benedict on the street?”
“I doubt father even knows I’m married,” you said. “There’s no reason for Benedict to—”
“There’s every reason for him to know!” she said. “If you don’t want to give him the details, fine! But you need to tell him especially if they decide to come here, you know what father is like—”
“I can handle father.”
Josie threw her hands up in exasperation. “Have you gone insane?!”
“I don’t need Benedict’s help,” you said tersely, shrugging your shoulders and Josie heaved an impatient sigh.
“If you’re doing this because you two had a small lover’s spat…”
You narrowed your eyes at her. “Josie.”
“You had a fight, is that it?”
“That’s not important.”
“It is important if you’re going to make stupid choices because of it!” she snapped. “If it were any other time, you know I wouldn’t push you to do anything but if mother and father are in fact coming here, you’re going to need all the support you can get.”
You scoffed. “Sure, let me just go and cry to Benedict because what? Father is coming here?”
Josie raised her brows. “How’s your wrist?”
The anger rushed through you so fast that you didn’t even have the chance to remind yourself it wasn’t Josie you were angry at, just the memory itself and how it managed to make you feel helpless every single time.
Not to mention, your and Josie’s fights would always be fiery, ever since you two were little.
“Fuck you, I’m not going to listen to this,” you growled and Josie’s gaze turned into a glare as you walked past her toward the door.
“No?” she asked, making you whirl around on your heels before you got to the door. “If you don’t want people to ask you questions, maybe don’t act like a little girl throwing a tantrum.”
“I’m not!”
“By keeping the one person who you’re actually close to in the dark?” she snapped back. “The one person who can actually protect you as far as the ton and the law are concerned? For God’s sake, you’re married—”
“It’s a sham, Josie!” the words left your lips before you had the chance to stop them. “Wake up, will you? It’s a sham, it’s not real! None of this is!”
That got her to stop talking and if you weren’t so exhausted by the nervousness and anger rushing through you for days now, you would have stopped talking as well but you were nearly hysterical at this point.
“We’re not in love,” you said, breathing fast. “The only reason why we got married is because people saw us together, alright? He knows it, I know it, even goddamn Anthony knows it! And everyone around us is so gullible that they believed we were in love because what? We pretended to be just to spare their feelings? Honestly Josie, I’d expect you of all people to be smarter than that—”
“What?”
The different voice that reached into the room came from behind you from the door and you turned around to see Lottie staring at you in shock. Your breath got caught in your throat and you swallowed thickly.
“Lottie…”
“Your butler let me in, I wanted to see if you were alright after your note but—I—” she stammered, tears rushing to her eyes. “You both…you all lied to me? All this time?”
“No,” you said quickly. “No it’s just complicated, I didn’t mean—”
“Excuse me,” she said and turned around to rush downstairs, a curse leaving your lips before you rushed after her.
“Lottie- Charlotte!” you called out as she stepped outside with you following her. “Please, can we just talk?”
“That rumor Lady Whistledown mentioned,” she said, turning to look at you better. “That was true?”
You ran a hand over your face. “It’s not exactly—”
“Y/N,” she insisted and you heaved a sigh.
“Things between me and Benedict are complicated.”
“But you didn’t get married because of love?” she asked. “You got married because someone saw you two together, unchaperoned?”
You paused for a moment and she raised her brows.
“Y/N?”
“…You could say that,” you admitted after a beat and shook your head. “I know how it sounds, but we didn’t want to upset you—”
“Thank you so much for that,” she said with a sad laugh and you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“Lottie…” you said, following her as she walked to her carriage. “I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
She looked at you for a moment, then swallowed thickly.
“I’d say you didn’t want me to find out in any way,” she muttered and got in the carriage before you could say anything else, then the coachman drove away, leaving you there.
You groaned, that heaviness in your heart getting even worse as you watched her carriage disappear into the road and dug your fingernails into your palms before you looked up at the sky and let out a scream, the birds in the nearest tree flying away. You huffed out a breath, then turned around to see Josie leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, and her brows raised.
“I’m glad you got it off your chest I guess,” she said. “Now, want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”
                                                                      *
It took you almost an hour to fill her in on the details of everything that had happened. Even if you still felt incredibly bad for how Lottie had found out, -and how you had kept it from Josie- it still felt sort of relieving to actually share it with someone. Josie sat beside you on the stairs that whole time and it was only when you had finished telling her everything that she heaved a deep sigh, leaning back on her elbows.
“Fuck.”
“Mm hm,” you said. “Sounds about right.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You scoffed a laugh. “Look me in the eye and tell me you would have let me marry him if you knew why that wedding was happening.”
“Of course I wouldn’t have let you!” she said. “That’s exactly why you should have told me!”
“And then?” you asked. “You know how the ton would have been like.”
“Who cares about those idiots?”
“A scandal would have affected uncle and auntie as well, Josie.”
“Scandal or not, I think uncle and auntie would want you to be happy.”
“I am—it’s not…” you massaged your temples for what felt like the hundredth time today. “It’s complicated.”
“It really isn’t,” she said. “If he forced your hand—”
“He didn’t force my hand,” you cut her off. “No more than I forced his hand at least. I wanted to kiss him, he wanted to kiss me…It’s only because people saw us together that it got to this.”
“And you’re sure he didn’t plan this?”
“I know he didn’t,” you said. “Trust me, I’d love to be able to blame someone but Benedict is not to blame.”
“Neither are you.”
You clicked your tongue.
“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I could’ve walked away.”
“So could he,” she said and you heaved a sigh, then shrugged your shoulders.
“I don’t know,” you repeated, running a hand over your face. “God, it feels like I haven’t slept in years.”
Josie bit at her lip, deep in thought before she turned to you.
“Clover?”
“Hm?”
“Technically speaking, this marriage is invalid,” she said. “No consummation.”
“So?”
“Would he apply for an annulment?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach but you frowned, shaking your head.
“I don’t think so.”
“Would you?”
“I’m not going to apply for annulment,” you brushed her off and she sat up straighter.
“Then we could leave whenever you want, you can come with me and Andrew and Bess—”
“I’m not going to do that Josie,” you said and she scoffed a laugh.
“Why not?” she asked. “If you’re worried about a scandal…”
“That’s not why,” you told her. “Not really.”
“Does it have something to do with the fact that you kissed him?” she asked and you shot her a look.
“Don’t,” you said. “Seriously. It was just desire and I’m pretty sure anything he may have felt for me is long gone after that fight.”
“And yet you want to stay for some reason because you want to make yourself suffer?”
You heaved a sigh.
“No I—I’ll think about it,” you lied to her. “After this whole mess is over.”
“Alright,” she said and stood up. “I’d better go but are you going to be okay?”
“Sure thing,” you said, waving a hand in the air before standing up as well. She pulled you into a hug, then kissed your cheek.
“I’ll kill you if you hide things from me again,” she said, drawing a chuckle out of you before she walked to get in the carriage. You lingered there for a moment as the carriage drove away and you shook your head slightly, then walked back into the house.
                                                          *
You were still so tense that you couldn’t even bring yourself to have dinner even if you would be all by yourself. Benedict was still outside, so even though you knew there was no way you could get a wink of sleep, you still went to your bedroom. The sky was dark already, your room only illuminated by the moonlight and the flames in the fireplace. You took out the pins in your hair, then massaged your scalp and heaved a sigh before putting the flowers Teddy and your aunt had brought you on the windowsill so that you could air dry them, but as soon as you did, the carriage by the stone road caught your attention, making you frown.
Ah.
That had to be Benedict.
You had just placed all of the flowers when the knock on the door reached you and you looked over your shoulder.
“Come in?”
Benedict opened the door and stepped inside, and you frowned at just how rigid his whole body looked.
“Can we talk?”
“About?” you asked and he took a deep breath as if reminding himself to be calm.
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“You might want to—” you started but then the idea hit you, making you stop for a moment. “Ah. Lottie?”
“Yeah,” he said. “So did you?”
You gawked at him and scoffed a bitter chuckle. “Why would I do it on purpose, exactly?”
“Because you’re angry at me for some reason?”
You could feel the anger rushing through your system so you gritted your teeth.
“Contrary to what you seem to believe, I don’t go behind people’s backs when I’m angry at them.”
He raised his brows, disbelief etched in his features.
“Sure,” he said. “So it was what, a coincidence?”
“Well you seem to have all the answers,” you bit back. “I’m sure you can answer that on your own as well.”
“Y/N.”
“What?”
“Why would you tell Charlie that?” he insisted. “She’s angry at me and Anthony because apparently you decided to tell her he knew as well.”
“Oh well that’s devastating,” you deadpanned. “Because I spend all my days trying to make sure everything I do makes Anthony’s life easier—obviously I didn’t know she was here! She’s angry at me too, or has it escaped your notice?”
“Then how did she—”
“Because she was apparently there when I told Josie, but I didn’t know.”
Benedict stared at you. “Wait, Josie knows as well?”
“Lapse in judgement, we were having an argument,” you said and Benedict blinked a couple of times.
“Y/N, I thought we agreed we would keep it to ourselves,” he said. “We told everyone—”
“I have more to lose than you if it gets out, Benedict!” you snapped. “You don’t have to remind me what I already know!”
He took a deep breath as if reminding himself to be calm.
“We’re married,” he said, motioning between you two. “We need to be on the same page on things like these.”
“Oh now you remember we’re married?” you asked with a bitter laugh. “You can act like a bachelor and spend a whole night partying and doing God knows what without so much as letting me know—”
“I did let you know!”
Your voice rose before you had a chance to stop it; “Oh sorry, how nice of you to invite me to the party as a second thought!”
“I already told you nothing happened!”
“That’s not the point!” you snapped back, “The point is that you told me we would talk and we didn’t because you were too busy having fun at a party!”
Benedict shook his head. “You told me it wasn’t important!”
“Because you—” you started but your body automatically flinched back when Benedict’s hand shot up to run it through his hair, a gesture you had seen him do over and over again but in the heat of the argument, it was enough to make the rest of your sentence get lost in your throat.
Benedict’s hand froze in the air as the sudden panic rushed through your veins, the flash of various memories shooting through your head but even through the haze of absolute fear, in some corner of your mind you knew.
That was then, not now.
That was not going to happen again, not with him.
Benedict stared at you before he held up his palms, all the fire of the fight and anger gone from his gaze.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice so gentle and soothing that your throat tightened. “I promise you.”
You blinked back the tears and nodded. “I know.”
“I would never—”
“Benedict, I know,” you cut him off and let out a bitter chuckle. “I believe in you on that at the very least, trust me. It just used to happen a lot whenever anyone moved too fast around me, it’s involuntary.”
Benedict swallowed thickly, his eyes searching your face before he very slowly lowered his hands as if trying not to make any sudden moves. The panic retrieved from your body like a wave at the shore and you heaved a sigh, then leaned back to the wall before slipping down to sit on the floor.
“I can leave you be if you’d like,” Benedict said softly. “Do you want me to go?”
You scoffed a dry laugh and patted the spot next to you. Benedict lingered there for a moment, then made his way to you to sit down on the floor beside you, leaning his back to the wall while you pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them.
“But you…” he paused for a moment. “You know I would never, right? Really?”
“Yeah,” you said. “I know. I don’t know how, but I know.”
“Okay.”
You stared at the moonlight spilling over both of you through the window before you ran a hand over your face.
“Benedict?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to get an annulment?”
That made him turn to look at you better, his brows furrowing as you shrugged.
“Technically speaking, this marriage is invalid,” you quoted Josie. “We never consummated, so…We could get an annulment.”
He stared at you. “Do you want to get an annulment?”
“I asked first.”
If it were any other time, it would have made him smile at the very least but not this time.
“No,” he said. “But I won’t force you, I’ll never force you into anything so…Do you want one?”
You shook your head.
“No,” you admitted. “No I don’t.”
A silence fell upon you and he leaned his head back to rest it against the wall before stealing a look at you.
“So this is marriage huh?” he asked and you felt a sad smile curl your lips.
“Yeah,” you said. “A never-ending emotional torture.”
“Well you did warn me, so…” Benedict mused and you nodded your head.
“I really did,” you murmured, twisting your wedding ring around your finger. “Jesus I’m exhausted.”
A bitter chuckle climbed up his throat.
“I know the feeling,” he rasped out. “Can you um—can you sleep at night? Because I can’t.”
“Not at all,” you said. “And I can’t really focus on anything. Can you?”
“I need to,” he said. “I need to be focused on something all the time, otherwise…”
“What?” you asked after a beat and Benedict shook his head.
“It’ll catch up to me otherwise.”
He didn’t need to specify what it was, you knew it very well because it was the same thing that had been twisting your heart for the last two weeks.
The wave of pain that was so strong that if it managed to get to you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand.
“It’ll turn into hate one day,” you said, your voice determined as you nodded your head to yourself. “It will. It’s a marriage, it has to turn into resentment and one day we will wake up and we’ll hate each other.”
He tilted his head. “Do you really believe that?”
“I want to believe that,” you said. “I hope it does turn into hate, I’m better at it.”
“Dear God, it would be so much easier,” he murmured and you nodded.
“Exactly,” you croaked out as the burning in your eyes came back but you bit at your tongue, fixing your gaze on the wall.
“Can I ask you something?” Benedict asked and you glanced at him.
“Sure.”
“I’ve always wondered if you…” he trailed off. “Do you regret it? That night at the gazebo?”
“Do you?”
“I asked first,” he quoted you, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips and you smiled back, then shook your head.
“No,” you said. “Do you?”
“Not a single second of it,” he stated and a nearly hysterical giggle escaped from your lips.
“You know, Lord Easton said something the other night,” you said and sniffled. “And I have a theory about this whole thing.”
“I’m listening.”
“Call it artist and muse, call it desire, whatever it is,” you said. “I’m beginning to think maybe it was fate.”
“You don’t believe in fate,” he said and you thought for a moment, then shook your head.
“Well, I don’t but think about it,” you said, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand, then turned sideways to see him better. “We kept tempting fate even if we knew we weren’t supposed to and—be completely honest with me, can you imagine yourself being married to someone else?”
He grimaced. “Not without a shudder and a nightmare to go with that idea.”
“Exactly,” you insisted. “Even after everything. So we’re—we’re not star-crossed, we’re not each other’s promised but maybe we’re something else completely different than all that.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe we’re just doomed to torment each other.”
He blinked a couple of times as if trying to wrap his mind around it and you sniffled again.
“Does it not make sense?” you asked, sitting up straighter, your eyes locked in his. “Neither of us regret that night even if it would make perfect sense if we did, both of us could walk away right now, a luxury no other couple in the ton has, and yet…”
“Yet here we are.”
“Yeah,” you muttered. “Yet here we are. Doomed to torment each other, in this life and beyond.”
He hummed. “That’s a relieving thought.”
You turned to shoot him a look of disbelief. “The idea of being tormented is relieving?”
“Compared to the idea of not having you?” he asked. “It is. I can take the torment from you, just not…just not your absence.”
A silence fell upon the room and you rubbed at your eyes, then dropped your hands to your lap.
“Well then I shall haunt you,” you managed to say. “Even after death, like in those awful stories. If we are to torment each other, we will not be free of each other. Dead or not, no absence.”
A sad smile crossed Benedict’s lips and he held up his pinky.
“Do you promise?” he asked and a teary laugh climbed up your throat, then you looked up at him.
“What?”
“Do you promise to haunt me?”
You blinked back the tears before they could blur your vision, then stuck your nose in the air.
“Do you promise to haunt me back?”
Benedict tilted his head. “Do you want me to?”
“I do,” you said without any hesitation and hooked your pinky with his. “Whoever goes first will haunt the other. Deal?”
There was no sign of hesitance in his eyes, only determination as he smiled slightly, making your heart skip a beat.
“Deal.”
Chapter 31
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